Another Life
by Aliza Hope
Summary: Draco had never been completely sure when he fell in love with her. All he knew is that he did and by god, it was annoying. He didn't wish to be in love with her and he hated that he was. Kind of angsty Dramione one-shot


The first time he saw her, they were on the Hogwarts Express. He had seen her from behind. Her hair was dark brown and bushy. It fell to her shoulder blades. She wore muggle clothes, it was nothing fancy, just a t-shirt and jeans. Then she turned around and she took his breathe away.

Her brown eyes were so very bright and so full of knowledge. Her skin was flawless. When she smiled, her eyes lit up which drew his attention away from her buck teeth that weren't all that unseemly in the first place.

Draco spoke with her, not for long though. He only got her name. Hermione Granger. She was obviously a muggleborn and disappointment flowed through him. She would have been a good friend.

He was so incredibly disappointed, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He teased her. He taunted her. He bullied her. And he felt so full of rage when somebody else did the same. He pretended to hate her but, on the inside, he hated himself for hurting her.

Their third year came much sooner than he expected it to. It was there and almost gone in the blink of an eye. He knew what he had said was truly wrong the minute he finished saying it, but it was out, and he couldn't take it back.

At first, she had pulled her wand on him. Her friend, the weasel, had talked her out of using her wand and Draco thought he was going to be alright when she began to pull away, but then she moved again.

Draco had never been punched before and he truly hoped he would never be punched again. His nose cracked under her fist and blood began to pour from it. But no matter how much he regretted what he said and no matter how much being punched hurt, the look of smug satisfaction on her face was adorable and so worth it.

And once again, time seemed to get away from him and it was time for the Yule Ball before he really wanted it to. He had asked Parkinson, but he hadn't wanted to. She was a evil little bitch but no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't ask Hermione.

She had come down the stairs in periwinkle blue dress robes and he felt like the breathe had been knocked out of him. For the first time ever, she had looked perfect. He had always thought of her as beautiful, but now, she looked perfect.

Pansy pulled on him, telling him what to do and what to say and oh how he wanted to just tell her to shut up. He didn't have a good time. How could he when Hermione was dancing the night away with that Viktor Krum. All he wanted was for her to be in his arms and not that ruddy quidditch player's.

Sixth year was hell. The only thing that kept him going was her. He saw her every day and she looked happy, for the most part. There were a few months where she seemed angry, sad, and disappointed. After Christmas, she seemed much happier, a little bit more self-satisfied and Draco was surprised to find that he found that extremely attractive.

When the time came, he tried to complete his mission, he really did, but her face swam in the back of his mind and he just couldn't bring himself to do it. In the end, it wasn't him, but all the same, he still felt like he had disappointed her.

The next year was worse. It was full out war and three quarters of the way through it, he was forced to watch his Aunt Bella torture Hermione. His heart pounded in his chest and all he wanted to do was turn away or close his eyes, but for the life of him, he just couldn't. His entire body shook with...rage? Fear? Panic? He wasn't sure. All he knew was he wanted her out of there.

When Potter and the weasel did their little rescue, he offered up the wands far too easily for his family's and Voldemort's liking, but he knew that they would get her out of there. That she would be okay if he just let them win. So, he did, and he got punished, severely. But if he had to go back and do it again, he would.

The final battle was rough, but he made it through and so did she, but she and the weasel were together now, and he didn't have a chance. Of course, he probably wouldn't have anyway, even if she and the weasel weren't together. The way he had treated her was... well it would take so very much to make up for it.

He saw her several times over the next few years. She was all over the papers. People were claiming she was a hero and technically, she was. Draco knew he didn't have a right to, but he felt proud of her. She had come a long way from that eleven-year-old bookworm with buck teeth that he met on the train.

They met again a few years after the battle. It was May 2, 2001. He was by himself at the Leaky Cauldron, having a few drinks. She dropped into the seat beside him like it was any normal day.

"Malfoy," she greeted, calling for a firewhiskey from Tom.

"Granger," he responded, gazing down at his cup of scotch. "Thought you'd be at the ball."

"I was. Hurt too much so I left. Thought you'd be at the ball, too."

Draco scoffed and ran his hand through his hair. "Nobody wants an ex-death eater at the ball."

"I would. You deserve to be there just like everybody else," Hermione said, knocking back her firewhiskey. She coughed a little then turned her gaze to Draco.

Draco turned to look at her. "I thought you hated me."

"No. I don't hate you. Only pretended to because you hated me." Hermione shook her head, gesturing for another firewhiskey.

"Do you even know why I hated you?"

"Because of my blood," Hermione answered, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

"No," he said. He turned his gaze away from her to stare at the wall behind the bar. After a moment, he spoke. "Because you made me question everything they ever told me."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything at all. After a moment, Draco gave a heavy sigh and pulled out his wallet. He left a few galleons on the bar then stood. He turned back to her for a moment.

"Maybe in another life, eh, Granger?" He said.

Hermione stared up at him for a minute then she, too sighed. "Maybe," she murmured.

"See you around, Granger," he said then turned and walked away.


End file.
